By the morrow Madakos had 200,000 constructs. It would not be until afternoon while Madakos stared at the overhead sun, that with perpetual exponential growth of the constructs that he made it to 1 million. No pursuers had found him yet, Ildrid had not sent any extra armies. All the cubes, and there were many of them, buried into and along the sand suddenly combined into one singular construct. In this moment when things were already crazy enough, a ghost army of some 3000 suddenly appeared on the horizon.

“Madakos!”

“I know, I see it too.”

10 million Zira was flowing into him in a second, he shredded the ghosts with purple arrowheads, a much faster ghost appeared before him and attempted to stab him in the back, Madakos destroyed the ghost with his hands, his tower’s did its work a second later, the fire blazed him from head to toe; Hunila and Tamura stared at the sight of the purple fire tendrils simply crawling up his arm.

“It’s not burning you?” Tamura said.

“I guess not…” he whispered and growled.

He turned his head several times, missing another detail, the 1 construct replaced all the others, and produced 10 million Zira instead of 1 million, or even double that, 10 times the Zira flowed into Madakos as he still looked around, paranoid beyond measure.

“What is that? Where did all your constructs go…”

4 golden crystals pulsated around a purple one, creating rotating light beams, Madakos sprouted ten more towers before flattening the sand and collapsing on his arse; the reality of the multiplier finally being understood by his mind.

“It’s a ten times multiplier…” he whispered, flabbergasted.

“That is the highest it will get…” Neridim the first Warlock’s spirit spoke, “ten million Zira a second for the price of only one.”

A ghost general appeared in the distance, a far away distance that Madakos only sensed at first due to instinct and later zoomed in using a lot of Zira to scan ahead, thus able to send thousands of tendrils. The Ghost commander was eliminated mere moments later.

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“What was that?”

“A foe after me, a commander,” his voice quivered, “thank you Neridim, I will not attempt the impossible.”

“No you must, Warlocks and Zira are not supposed to exist, you are unnatural. You will be targeted by everyone, your destiny is to die.”

“I will not… die,” Madakos said adamantly.

“Good.”

Neridim left, and Madakos stared at the two woman who had joined him on the hill. Magic filled within him with extreme speed. He looked at the two women and sighed. The sands picked off the ground, and the towers crept into the sky defending his position but hardly his sanity or peace of mind.

“Are you sure you want to be Warlocks? You heard the perilous nature of it, I’m essentially a dead man walking.”

“My clan could be something else other than fishermen,” Hunila smiled, “besides, you need company.”

“I’m already tied to you one way or another,” Tamura said, “so I might as well.”

“In about 30 minutes time, I can make you both Warlocks,” Madakos interrupted.

Hunila smirked and Tamura likewise did much the same. Tamura had left her hair braided, the Shadow Elf woman had a ponytail, lilac hair and face, Tamura noticed how Madakos’s eyes lurked, filled with desire and chuckled silently.

“You can make Hunila a Warlock first, I allow it,” Tamura gave a sideways glance as she said it, a little smirk on her face.

“But I promised?” Madakos said, confused.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Tamura laughed, “you… men.”

Madakos had no idea what she was on about, and then gleaned it, sighing to much mirth from both women.

Was I that obvious?

“You’ll both become Warlocks at the same time,” he muttered.

“That’s still a promotion Hunila,” Tamura whispered, to much giggles.

I need to do something about my scent, I smell like a goat.

Hunila put a jagged knife at his feet. Both sat down on the sand, Hunila crosslegged, Madakos with one hand leaning on his knee, they both stared at each other for an uncomfortable second before Hunila inched closer to his face, with a breathtaking smile.

“Why are you really here Hunila?” Madakos said, “your Shadow Elves live in peace.”

“Peace, but not comfort.” Hunila corrected, “we are not wealthy.”

“Wealth will come with a cost,” Madakos whispered breathlessly.

“Everything has a cost,” Hunila answered, “everything.”

Even you? He thought breathlessly. It seemed that Hunila could read Madakos’s mind as she smiled as he thought, and perhaps that was more terrifying than Zira.